SURPLUS SALES IV: Problems Solved
by Bill Smith
SIX MONTHS LATER:
The government pretty well solved the surplus slave problem without having to cut back production at the breeding farms. In one bold stroke they handled the best interests of the network of slave dealers (who faced large losses from holding and feeding large numbers of slaves they couldn't sell), the continued prosperity of the slave breeders (who didn't want to face mandatory cutbacks and the big profits their business was yielding), the chronic burden of the poor (who paid no taxes but required services); and found a way to enlarge the national treasury rather substantially. Most people viewed the government's action as a stroke of genius, is not a perfect example of what good politics could accomplish.
First, all those in penury (defined as an income of less than $24,000 annually and a net value less than that same amount) were immediately enslaved under provisions of the new criminal codes. This only added to a huge surplus of slaves, of course, but the problem was only temporary in that all agriculture, manufacturing, and service industries were induced to switch 100 percent to slave labor. The favorable tax incentives for such a considerable investment compensated for buying up the millions of slaves to do the jobs formerly done by the working poor, even though they were sold only at full value. This move essentially transferred those reduced to penury to a vast new underclass of slaves doing most of the grunt work and keeping our nation competitive in the world markets while reducing the welfare burden almost entirely.
On the huge farms making the shift, battalions of new slaves were generally kept naked to cut clothing expenses and so their new corporate ownership brands were clearly visible, chained together by their neck collars in work gangs of 100 or more for easy supervision, and urged to maximum effort 15 hours a day by a combination of Mylar whips constantly on their backs and rumps (terrible wrenching pain but no skin lacerations usually), electric prods usually applied to their constantly exposed balls, or food and water deprivation where the choice was simple: work or starve, or even quicker, work or suffer the agony of unfulfilled thirst in the hot sun. They were fed standard slave mush and watered in large communal troughs where they were given only 15 minutes to choke it down twice a day; washed only by the rain; never shaved or groomed in any fashion, and allowed no opportunities for sex, even with each other.
As a result, they were frequently erect, often tried to masturbate or mount a slave chained next to them the minute a supervisor's back was turned, and not unfrequently had spontaneous emissions from their swollen balls at the slightest provocation, such as rubbing against a tool or a nearby slave in their work. None were ringed in that it was feared such rings through their ears, nostrils, tits, or pricks would get caught up in the impliments they worked with. Even their genitals weren't banded for the same reason. Their only adornment, so to speak, was their slave collar necessary to band them together in gangs.
Industrial slaves were fitted out quite differently in that most of them had to work independently in manufacturing, assembly, janitorial or repair work, warehousing, or at individual work stations. Again, total nakedness eliminated clothing costs, but a unique genital band solved most discipline problems. Fitted tightly behind each slave's balls and encompassing his prick at the root, the band featured a battery powered shocking apparatus that, set at its highest, instantly brought a slave to such pain he was rendered unconscious. Most overseer's remote controls were set at low which caused a slave agonizing pain but allowed him to continue working despite his screams, while moving it to medium generally sent them to the floor writhing in agony. It took a new slave only a few hours to become total compliant at all times after being fitted with the device and working at his hardest throughout the day without let-up. These slaves were given a chance to give themselves a complete enema and then shower and body shave upon arising for a day's work, eat and drink from separate bowls in their cages, and earn privileges to have sex with each other for meeting their production goals. Most of them, however, were sterilized upon purchase to control breeding, fitted with heavy tit and nose rings so leashes could be easily attached for easy control as well as to the thick heavy slave collars all of them had welded around their necks. They too worked 15 hours a day seven days a week and were often expected to fulfill their supervisor's sexual needs at night before being caged if they were "pretty to the eyes,' at least in a supervisor's opinion. A few went berserk from the heavy control and the frequent pain to their balls and were promptly shipped off to the agricultural settings where going mad didn't matter when you were working in chain gangs - no one even noticed usually in that the standard practice there was to punish the whole group with heavy whipping whenever any individual in the gang caused trouble. Thus the mad among the chain gangs were usually kept well in line by the other gang members who handled bizarre behavior the only ways they could: tearing their genitals off to calm them; tearing out their vocal chords to mute their screaming; and stealing their food so they were too weak to cause any trouble noticeable by the supervisors.
Thus, most of the poor in the country found a whole new life unimaginable just a few months earlier when they were simply "the working poor." Now they were working, alright, but their health and diet was maintained better, undesirable habits like drinking, drugs, smoking, and debauchery were eliminated, breeding hordes of children for whom they assumed no responsibility was eliminated, diseases like syphilis and tuberculosis were addressed immediately, their productivity was almost tripled, and their usual problems, like indebtedness, unemployment, and making a nuisance of themselves socially, was all eliminated.
So, for many of them, once they had 'settled in' and learned what they had to do to avoid punishment, their new life as slaves wasn't all that much worse and often better - their health was better with a good diet and plenty of exercise, many worries that plagued them in the past were no longer their's to worry about, and there was a certain 'freedom' in never having to make decisions or decide what they were going to do next. Once you got used to the collar around your neck or hugging your genitals, once you adjusted to being constantly nude, and once you got used to a whip on your back or a shock to your balls now and then when you slacked down in your efforts, it really wasn't that bad. You had a nice bed of fresh straw each night in your own cage, enough good nourishing food to eat most of the time, and someone worrying about your welfare in that you were worth quite a bit to them economically.
Life before, with its chronic hunger, its nagging bill collectors, its threats of being laid off or otherwise losing your only source of income, the demands of your family, and constantly worrying about how you would ever pay for treatment if you got sick, wasn't all that great by any means. Slavery in many ways had it beat all to hell despite the whips, the chains, the nasty little ball shockers, the supervisors literally fucking you, etc. At least you knew exactly where you stood at all times - at the bottom of the heap with no false hopes about ever "getting ahead in the world." The honesty of the system was perhaps its greatest appeal, especially to those who felt they'd always been duped in the past by a web of bull shit and open lies.
The surplus of bred slaves (who generally were a lot better looking, had noticeably bigger sexual equipment, and were certainly more acclimated to their fate) was turned into the country's best export commodity. A deal was cut with the oil producing nations to take slave stock in lieu of cash payment for the country's huge imports of oil. Each supertanker delivering oil was jammed full of appealing young bred slaves for the trip back to the tanker's country of origins where they would be sorted, evaluated as to market worth, and then assigned to new owners already specified or sold on the open markets. Since a lot of oil production in Middle Eastern countries was considered the province of the royal families, most of these new slaves technically belonged to them, just like the oil they had been bartered for. Consequently, each new slave was branded with the appropriate mark of royal ownership. The best looking were assigned to one of their palaces for either household work, as part of a select harem of pleasure slaves, or often at both, depending on just how much they turned on their new owners. Thus, most of the newly arrived slaves found themselves in almost constant sexual usage by their new masters. But those less appealing worked the oil fields and refineries needing only a good hat and lots of suntan oil to protect them from the horrible heat and a burly whip-wielding overseer who extracted an honest day's work and then some out of his charges. Even they got fucked quite a bit in that all the oil company employees were granted sexual use of the slaves as a fringe benefit. Within a few months, over one million of our native-bred slaves were now properties in Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Kuwait. Hundreds of thousands of others in Mexico, Venezuela, Indonesia, and Norway were doing much the same but without the heat. Our nation's balance of payments was, for once, on the plus side and the question of how we were going to pay for all that oil we used was now answered by our prolific breeding farms who were churning out the highly preferred blond, blue-eyed, heavily-hung slaves by the hundreds each and every day.
The poor had been turned from a burden into an national asset of always available, high productive, and reliable labor whose costs were negligible once the original investment was written off under the new tax code. The surplus of slaves clogging the holding pens had disappeared without discounting one single piece of meat in them so the vast network of slave dealers hadn't suffered. And the numerous rutting sheds gracing every breeding farm was keep busy around the clock producing an ever more attractive and appealing commodity for world markets. In the process, America had lost 25% of its citizenry, had ridded itself of a troublesome national debt, and elevated the standard of living substantially for those not classified as animals.
My mistress was having quite a day of it, taking all three of her 'display studs,' as we were called, with her for some serious shopping, luncheon with some long-time friends at her favorite restaurant at the mall, and enjoying the accolades she always received when displaying us to the crowds she always seemed to draw.
Yes, my goal of being sold to a mistress had been accomplished - well, almost, in that actually she AND her husband bought me for their enjoyment, but she was the one that ended up bedding me down the most, displaying me out in public in the livery of her choice, and taking care of me like feeding me, making sure I body shaved daily, gave myself enemas as scheduled, and kept me perky and always responsive with the ever-present slave whip she seemed to actually enjoy using on me and the other two 'display studs' she owned.
Her husband actually seemed more interested in some of his female house slaves than us, but did manage to fuck all three of us at least once a week or so. Those usages, all three of us agreed, were more about demonstrating his power as our master and the fact he could fuck us if he wanted to than actually enjoying us like his wife seemed to. He rarely said anything to us other than order us into particular positions that suited him, was rough as well as rather hurried in fucking us, and dismissed us abruptly when he had shot up our ass or down our throat with nothing more than a good slap on the ass and an order to "get back in your cage."
As was customary for new slaves, I was sent to a slave training center immediately after being enslaved and there I had worked long and hard to appeal to a mistress. I paid utmost attention when being trained on how to please a female; practiced keeping my orgasms under control so that I wouldn't shoot off until she was totally satisfied and gave me permission to do so; and practiced over and over on the available slave girls at the training center on stimulating them with my tongue and mouth; handling them gently; always looking thrilled when they choose me to bed down; and always thanking them for "using me" when they were completely satisfied. I had learned to always indicate my gratitude when my mistress deigned to fondle and caress me, even when it was right out in public with crowds looking on licking their lips at my swollen organ, my sweaty muscular physique, and the many showy little adornments to my powerful body that was, after all those forced exercises and training, now the epitome of masculine beauty.
Of course, pleasing a mistress was only part of my extensive slave training. All of us were also schooled fully in pleasing a man too in that slaves weren't given choices in this world. I understood that and took to those lessons with no hesitation, but my goal was to lure a mistress to buy me if I could. If a man bought me, so be it. I would serve him the best I could and I doubted he would be disappointed with his purchase. As a former slaveholder, I understood what was expected of a slave and modeled myself, as best I could, after the Latino who had satisfied me and my friends so well the brief period I had owned him. I knew I was just as good looking and sexually appealing as he was with my Cretan features and was fortunate enough to be as well hung as he was, always a valuable asset for a slave being marketed for the bedroom.
Right now, I was being paraded around the shopping mall with my two fellow slaves also tethered by their leashes to my mistress' right hand.
One was a medium brown boy with flawless skin, an impressive frame of 6'2" with the hyper-muscular build of a top athlete. He had a beautiful face with high cheekbones, long, dark eyelashes, and deep black eyes with thin pink lips. His livery consisted of a bright red leather collar with brass studs, a tight-fitting matching body harness that 'lifted' his muscular pecs dotted with very large dark brown tits as well as his well-rounded bubble butt up for good display, and incorporated the matching genital band which assured his semi-erect 12x5 circumcised prick and large balls was prominently displayed and easily accessible for handling. The only other attire on his totally shaved body were wrist and ankle cuffs, also in red leather with brass studs. The 'Nigger,' as the mistress had named him, reeked sexuality from any angle.
My other colleague was a blond who sported hair clear down to his shoulders in flowing locks, bright blue eyes on a strikingly handsome face featuring a brass nose ring fitted into his septum, a sculptured now hairless (but heavily oiled body) that could only be accomplished with years of weightlifting fitted with a thick very high neck collar of brass that forced his head into a constant rigidly upright position, massive pecs highlighted by 2" tit rings that matched his nose fitting, and a large brass genital band that assured his massive organ (11x6 even flaccid) would escape no one's attention. The mistress' large house brands showed clearly on his white lightly tanned skin, one right above his left pectoral; the other on his left butt check. His slave name "Swede" was neatly tattooed across his well-muscled stomach so the name seemed to enticingly undulate as he walked.
None of us had been bred as slaves. We had all once been free until the new laws for penury went into effect. 'Nigger' had worked on the assembly line for an auto parts manufacturer and would probably be back there now as a slave if his striking masculinity hadn't of caught the eye of a dealer specializing in pleasure slaves who saw a quick profit in selling him to the right person. He had had a wife and two children at one time, but they had been enslaved with him and were God knows where by now. He just hoped his former wife and his one-time children (slaves could have neither as possessions themselves)) never saw him being paraded around like he was now. One time, he saw two little slave boys who looked like a lot like his own children staring at him fully erect and in his tight red harness and he couldn't stop the tears flowing down his cheeks before his mistress slashed at him with her whip for "embarrassing her" with his unseemly behavior. 'Swede' had been a janitor until passage of the penury laws. Although originally slated for shipment to the farms as part of a chain gang, like 'Nigger' his good looks and magnificent body rerouted him for sale as a pleasure slave. He had never been married. Indeed he had never even had sex outside of masturbation until he was sent to a slave training center where he was shocked to learn what all he was expected to do as a slave - up until then, he didn't even know people did many of the acts he was now being trained to do so expertly. Such naivete was long behind him now, he thought, as he looked over at me stark naked with my pelvis thrust out to display my erect organ right there in public and thought about the thorough but rough fucking he had received last night from the mistress' husband.
I was collared with a 4" high green leather collar that pushed my head up until I almost arched back and assured perfect posture at all times, a position that best displayed my now very muscular and well-defined body, a result of specific forced exercises each and every day. I sported two dangling earrings of fake emeralds that matched by eyes, a thick green leather genital band that matched my collar and made sure my full endowment was displayed properly, and small but thick tit rings that made sure I could be leashed by my tits if desired but wouldn't interfere with anyone sucking my big tits if that's what they wanted to do, a practice that had made them grow until they were about three times as big as when I was first enslaved. At 6'4" I was an imposing sight, especially with a neatly circumcised prick, usually kept erect, the match of the other two slaves. My slave name was "Crete" and it was carefully tattooed on my forehead right beneath the thick bush of fine brown hair that graced my head. The rest of me was kept totally smooth which made me look considerably younger than I really was.
The 'Nigger,' 'Swede,' and I always accompanied our mistress leashed: 'Nigger' by his neck; 'Swede' by his genitals, and I by my tits. Our function was to carry her packages, open doors for her, wait patiently for her as she chatted with her friends, poked around the shopping items, or ate snacks at the little restaurants she favored. But our main purpose on these outings was to be seen: we showed the world her status as a wealthy slave owner who could afford the best the markets had to offer; our attire and her handling of us left no doubt as to what our primary function was; our sleek oiled and decorated but still naked bodies were a pleasant distraction, certainly erotic to both genders of onlookers; and our perfect bodies constituted what our mistress referred to as "walking art." When waiting, people frequently, with our mistress' permission, felt every aspect of our bodies and usually stroked us until we were dripping and panting in need. Often, she invited her friends to feel us even more intimately, including fingers up our hole, hands hefting and squeezing our balls as if judging their contents, fingers wrapped around and then vigorously stroking our pulsating pricks, and pinching and sucking our tits until they too were fully erect and swollen. We defined what 'display studs' were and exactly what they should look like.
"Which one is best at pleasuring you?" was a common question with the usual answer: "They're all so good it's hard to decide."
"Does your husband enjoy fucking them?" was a frequent inquiry coming from those who understood most married couples shared their slaves.
"Oh, yes. But," she paused and then giggled, "you know how so many husbands are. He's into his own girl slaves so much he hasn't much time left for these three of mine. Just enough, I suspect, to assert his ownership of them and remind them there's a master in the house too. It's good for male slaves to have their master fucking them at least once in a while to remind them that's a master's right. These slaves are trained to meet the demands of a master just as well as those of a mistress, of course, " she reminded those around her.
"Ever have them fuck each other?" a friend asked as she stroked me especially rigorously.
"Sometimes, for my amusement," she answered coyly. "But perhaps, as a special favor, my dear friend, if you really wanted to see them fuck," she arched her eyebrows as if she expected a response.
"It would be interesting to see that magnificent black fuck the golden haired slave," my mistress' friend challenged.
"Right here in public?" my mistress arched her eyebrows, as her friend nodded affirmatively.
"They're only slaves, after all," her friend smirked, "although I admit they're about the finest looking male animals I've seen recently."
"Oh, very well, if you insist. I'm sure some of the other shoppers would enjoy a little exhibition to brighten up the afternoon." Without even looking at her three slaves, she issued her curt instructions.
"Swede, on your hands and knees with your legs far apart and your ass up for a good fucking and you, Nigger, mount him and fuck him hard until I tell you to stop. But, Nigger, no shooting off. I plan to use you later this afternoon when we get home."
"Here in front of everyone, mistress?" 'Nigger' asked as 'Swede' quickly assumed the commanded positions without hesitation. 'Nigger,' like me, had been free until six months ago, while 'Swede' had been a slave for several years now.
"Of course," the mistress said as she lashed the black slave viciously across his ass for even questioning her while jerking strongly on both the slave's leashes. "Any more of your mouth and you'll be whipped so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week," she threatened as once again her lash torn into the black's hide. "There is nothing more irritating than a slave questioning his owner, especially on a matter of no consequence to him one way or another. If you're told to fuck, you fuck and it doesn't matter where or when, slave," she added as yet another swipe of her whip torn into his butt.
'Nigger' moaned from the blows he received but never hesitated in mounting 'Swede' and swiftly inserting his long thick shaft all the way up the blond's wide open hole and then proceeded to deep stroke the body beneath him unrelentingly, going in as far as possible with each stroke and then taking it out all but about an inch before plunging back in over and over and over as the blond moaned and squirmed around from the huge organ thrust far up into him. Looking up briefly, 'Swede' saw the crowd gathered around the slave's sweating bodies with lust in their eyes as they cheered the black on to even greater effort. He quickly gazed back at the floor beneath him and silently wept from pain, shame, and humiliation at being turned over the past few years into little more than a circus sideshow. Above him, gripping his shoulders, he heard the sharp panting of an animal in rut, but an animal trying desperately to meet his mistress' command to not ejaculate despite his natural inclinations and at the same time hide his own sobbing at the abasement of being forced to perform in public like a dog in heat.
I stood to one side as my mistress massaged my balls and stroked me until I was fully hard and dripping.
"Don't you shoot, Crete," she growled. "'Nigger's' not the only slave I intend to have pleasure me when we get home."
Within ten minutes, everyone was bored with the show and the mistress again cracked her whip and ordered 'Nigger' to withdraw and, tugging on both slave's leashes, ordered them to their feet and 'in position' in back of her. Both exhibited slaves were covered in sweat and both were flushed from head to foot from their exertions as they rose from their feet amid the crowd's applause.
"How much for an hour with the boy you call 'Crete'?" a young, smartly dressed man asked my mistress as she was preparing to leave for home.
"More than you could afford," she curtly answered, but then, looking the handsome boy over more carefully and taking in the big bulge in the boy's expensive pants, she added "Of course, I do loan him out now and then to young gentlemen I find interesting."
With that, I knew it wouldn't be long until the boy, younger than I was, would soon be taking his pleasure with me. It was just a matter of time once my mistress warmed up to the idea. It certainly wouldn't be the first time I was loaned out to her friends, mainly females but including quite a few males, and I knew it would by no means be my last either.
That night, all three of us ended up pleasuring the mistress one way or another (and usually in a multitude of ways) followed by being sent to the master's room who also took a round with each of us. As soon as I cleaned up the next morning (shower, shave, enema, body shave), I saw the young man from yesterday and suspected I would be his for the morning.
By noon, I had been proven right. Fucked four times up the ass in succession, sucking him off three more times, with him sucking and squeezing my tits in between, I was exhausted. Luckily, the mistress was still recovering from last night and the master was with his slave girls, so I and my two colleagues actually had a whole afternoon to clean ourselves inside and out and then catch some much needed sleep. Even by early evening, we weren't called up for duty, but our scheduled forced exercise was overdue so that took up an exhausting two hours before, sure enough, as expected, our mistress called us to clean ourselves, body shave, and oil our bodies for a long evening of 'entertainment' as she called getting fucked repeatedly by her 'objects of art.' .
Another huge supertanker was returning to its home port of Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, loaded with another big shipment of fresh imported slave meat for the Arabian markets. All the slaves being whipped down the gangplanks had been slaves since the day they were born, all carefully bred to have fine physiques, good looks, and big showy sex organs.
One of them had once belonged to me, a particularly fine looking Latino with an unusually long, thick penis while another one, an American, had once belonged to my friend Bret until, like me, he had been enslaved himself. Bret, I knew, was now property of the judge that had sentenced him (and four of his close friends) to slavery and was ironic in a sense in that Bret had worked for the judge's court for years as a free bailiff. Now I knew he was the houseboy and bedbuck of the judge, a man noted for his strong libido and his obsession with being sucked off by well built handsome slave boys like Bret.
Now the Latino and the American were next to each other in the coffle being unloaded, having known each other since my little group of friends frequently shared their slaves with each other. Both slaves, being bred, didn't question the fact they would once again have new owners - they knew slaves had no say so in such things - nor did they ponder what they might be required to do in this new land - again they knew that wasn't their's to decide. But they did react to the intense heat and wondered how long it would be before their bare feet thickened to the point where it wasn't painful to walk on the boiling concrete beneath them.
They were quickly marched to a slave classification center where they were sorted like the pieces of meat they were. There, unsurprisingly, due to the fact their last ownership had been as pleasure slaves and due to the fact their ethnic backgrounds and continuing extraordinary good looks were most in demand by local buyers interested in adding to their own 'harems" of pleasure slaves, they were quickly caged with those of like kind: young, handsome boys with uncommon appeal, magnificent bodies, and huge, well-shaped circumcised equipment who were experienced in sexually pleasing their owners. Within a week, both boys had new masters.
The American had been given to a prince of the royal family who expressed an interest in him after a thorough inspection, including finger fucking him to test for the tightness of his hole, inserting his finger into the slave's mouth to test his oral skills, and stroking him to a full discharge to test for the amount and texture of his cum. The young prince, a great-grand- nephew of the ruler, already had three other slaves for his bedchamber but not an American whose skills in pleasing their masters were legendary in this land. It would be interesting, the prince commented to the dealer who was making the gift, to compare the American slave to the big black Nigerian, the delicate little Indian boy, and the handsome Filipino slave he already had at his disposal. Within weeks, the American slave had met all expectations of his new master and was now referred to as the master's 'favorite' by all the other slaves in the palace. From the new slave's viewpoint, his new home was luxurious and comfortable, the air-conditioning was certainly appreciated even though he was kept nude all the time, the slave chow fed him twice a day was as good as slave chow got in his opinion, and, as yet, he only had to service his master once or twice a day, usually orally, in that he had so many other slaves to choose from. He couldn't imagine a better home for a slave and viewed his time back with his obviously impoverished American master who fucked him continuously and then shared him with his friends and fed him sporadically and stingily, as a dark memory best to be forgotten. He certainly favored Arabian to American ownership and, knowing hundreds of thousands of bred American slaves like himself were being sold overseas, thought this way for paying for oil imports was the best thing yet, at least from the export commodity's viewpoint. Even years later, when he was given to a friend of the prince's as a birthday gift, that view never changed although his new master was old, fat, and ugly. But even he offered well- appointed slave quarters, air-conditioning around the clock, good food, and rather undemanding use of his body since he too had a number of other slaves around to meet his needs.
My former slave, the Latino, had caught one of the slave handler's eyes that very first day and was taken that night to the handler's apartment to service him. The man lubed him thoroughly in that he planned a long night of enjoyment ahead and, once he had fucked him the first time, talked non-stop while he was resting up for another round with the Latino slave who had proved to be as satisfying to fuck as he had hoped when he first laid eyes on him. The middle-aged Arab, a free man, told the Latino slave he would be lucky if he was sold to an old man with more wives than he could handle anymore. Since women couldn't drive themselves in Saudi Arabia, they needed a male driver, usually collared slaves. Such slaves spent the days driving the women around in expensive cars fully clothed but, at night, they were often stripped in the privacy of their frustrated mistress' boudoirs and used as studs with their husband's permission as the wives made sure they didn't get pregnant and embarrass their husband by carrying a slave baby within them, grounds for a discrete abortion or a quick divorce. The handler had seen a number of exceptionally handsome slaves sold to older husbands for just that purpose, but he wasn't sure if a Latino slave would appeal to them or not no matter how well hung he was.
"You caught my eye right off, but I don't know how the Arab ladies would view you," he cautioned. "It's not what turns the husband on, it's what turns them on that counts. Even though they can't bid themselves at the auctions, they always seem to get what they want, regardless of what the husband thinks one way or another. The whole world thinks an Arab husband is king of his own house, but let me tell you it's not that way at all. Those shrouds of black cloth who walk behind their husbands with their eyes diverted from the likes of you and me are the real power here." With that comment, he again had the brown skinned slave on his back with his legs over his head and began a second sound fucking with his organ that would make any man proud and which certainly let the Latino slave know he was being fucked solidly no matter how much cum and lubricant was in his hole by this time.
By morning, the Latino slave was chocked full of cum both clear up his ass as well as in his stomach before he was returned to his cage. Following a good enema, showering, a body shave, and some oil on his body until it glistened, he was led to the auction center stark naked and placed on the block for sale where he was stroked to a full erection and then bent over to show his hole before a vast crowd of potential buyers. No old Arab husband even bid on him nor did any young prince. Instead, he was sold at a most modest price to an oil firm's representative looking for some replacement slaves for the company brothel. Latinos apparently had poor resale value here in Arabia but were good enough to stock the Aramco brothel reserved for company employees and visitors who enjoyed use of totally accessible, good looking male bodies when they had the urge. There the Latino did exactly what he had been purchased to do, but was never able to relate with any of his users to the point where they wanted to buy him for themselves. Nor was he given as a gift to any of the visiting dignitaries as some of his brothel colleagues were now and then. After five years, his youthful good looks were beginning to fade, his erections weren't quite what they used to be, and his hole didn't have the grip it used to after so much use. He was unceremoniously transferred to the oil fields where he worked the rigs, served on the crews that fixed the pipelines when they started to leak, and frequently got assigned to the stinking refineries with all their toxic fumes. His only clothing now was a protective helmet, a wide genital ring to keep his prick and balls out of getting caught in the equipment, and the same thick collar with ARAMCO PROPERTY engraved on it he had fitted with at the company brothel. Being out in the blazing sun most of the time, his brown skin was now almost black, the soles of his feet were a good one inch thick, and his eyes permanently squinted from the constant glare of the white desert all around him. Only slaves did this work - no one else would at any price - but slaves, of course, had no choice in the matter. Some said Aramco would shut down overnight if it didn't have slaves available to do the work and anyone visiting the place never argued with that observation.
Only the overseers assigned to beat him to full effort at all times used him for sex anymore and he hadn't even seen a woman since he had been transferred here. Nevertheless, he was well fed, watched over medically in that he was still a valuable property, and given sufficient time to rest properly to maintain his good health. He lived to a ripe old age of 52, remarkable for an Aramco slave, still looking fairly good other than a back and rump criss- crossed with permanent scars from the bull whips the field overseers were allowed to use since these slaves would never be up for sale again anyway.
Both American-bred slaves had the satisfaction of knowing they had solved the nation's balance of payment problem and were part of the country's most valuable export commodity now. What more could a slave ask for?
[Feedback is always appreciated. Please forward your comments to anonymous4371@juno.com. Thanks. Bill Smith]